Sherlock was out of town for the day at some bee convention, so naturally Jamie broke in an hour after his departure, with Joan's favorite takeout. They eventually gravitated towards the bed like they always did in these situations. Three hours and $100 dollars of takeout later, they were lazing around on Joan's bed caught in some weird embrace that Joan assumed was supposed to be an attempt at cuddling. Jaime's arm was stiffly draped across Joan's middle, and her head resting on a shoulder at an uncomfortable angle, due to the slight height difference. Jamie had been making an attempt to be more tender lately and she was failing at it in the most adorable way possible.
Jamie was staring at her now. It wasn't a murderous stare or the lustful one that Joan have become used to. It was the kind of stare you directed at someone that you care for. But that was impossible because Jamie didn't do caring when it can to Joan. She did possessive, loathing, intrigued, and they have had a lot of sex, but never caring. She entertained some of Joan's requests just to sate her but Joan refused to believe it was from a caring place. Sherlock surmised that she was trying to lull Joan in to a false sense of security before she attacked. Neither knew her true motives but they agreed that it was not genuine affection.
"You're adorable," Joan said suddenly," I don't like it." Her comment even surprised herself. She hadn't meant to say it aloud but it slipped out anyway.
"I fail to see how this revelation is an issue," Jaime chuckled at the absurdity of Joan's admission, "I think you're going mad," she whispered in a mocking tone. Joan could see the hint of flattery behind Jamie's mocking but she chose not to call her out on it.
"No, its not exactly a problem," Joan rolled her eyes at Jamie's amused expression,"You're almost a cartoon villain at times, I just expected moreā¦" she trailed off, not knowing how to finish that statement. Jamie was far too cute at times and that fact was becoming increasingly annoying. Where was the hidden volcano lair? The villainous mustache? What about the mom and pop restaurant she was supposed to be using to do business out of? Why, with all murder and mayhem she's caused in her life, was it so easy to forget how sinister she was in these moments?
"Not enough white cats and glass eyes for you? I'm quite sorry that I'm disappointing you in that department," Jamie gave Joan her best wicked smile,"We can introduce an element of role play into our sexual itinerary if you'd like."
Joan sighed, rolling out of Jamie's arms and the bed to collect her clothing "You just look like someone I could date under different circumstances. Its kind of hard not to take that personal. Am I regularly attracted to criminals or something?" She threw her clothing in the hamper and went to retrieve a sleep shirt out of her closet. Joan took longer than necessary, giving Jamie enough time to get dressed and leave. She was waiting for Jamie to make one of her grand exists, as she always did, so she could rack up as much sleep in Sherlock's absence as possible. He was making an effort to let Joan sleep longer but the heavy case load was taking its toll.
Finally deciding on a pajama set, Joan walked back to her bed to find the last thing she could have possibly expected. There was a large teddy bear, in a black sweater with a single "M" in red thread on its chest, laying on the left side of her bed. Jamie was nowhere insight but that wasn't unusual. How the hell did she even manage to get it in here? Joan checked the time on her phone to see that she had been gone for barely ten minutes. Living with Sherlock for so long taught Joan that the first thing she should do was to check for hidden camera and audio equipment and screen for any strange substances, but Joan was spent and if Moriarty wanted to watch her sleep tonight, let her.
The following morning, after being lectured about the dozens of untraceable toxins that could have been injected in to the bear, Joan allowed Sherlock to tear it apart, looking for spying equipment. After finding nothing, this lead into him chemically burning it to ash for what he claimed was a science experiment. Joan deduced that he was being petty because Jamie was sending her presents but she was sleeping with his crime lord of an ex, so she allowed him to be as petty as he wanted.
The next week passed with very little excitement. Sherlock was busy helping Randy find a new apartment and Joan spent the week sifting through some cold cases that Marcus brought to her. By the end of the week she hadn't solved any of the cases, Sherlock was annoying Randy more than helping him and even Clyde seemed to be agitated in his cage so they collectively decided to take a day to decompress. The day found Sherlock deactivating, hopefully, fake bombs, Clyde nibbling on a leaf of imported lettuce that Ms Hudson had brought on her last visit and Joan throwing herself into a book that she'd been meaning to read for the last three months.
They were arguing over dinner plans when the package arrived. It was wrapped in simple gold paper with a comically large red bow on top. It wasn't specifically addressed to either of them and there was no sender name but there was a note with their address on it and Sherlock could recognize that script anywhere. He went to hand it over to Joan before he quickly snatched it back explaining that he was going to retrieve the incubator Joan bought him for his birthday, a pair of gloves and some goggles just in case the inside was laced with anything. Joan waited for him to get back before she even spared the package another glance. He was right, no matter how cute and sweet Jamie could manage to be, she was still dangerous and Joan was annoyed with herself for continuously forgetting that fact in moments of weakness.
Fortunately there were no questionable substances in the package but there were two items in the it that neither Joan nor Sherlock could make sense of. There was a Joan sized black sweater with a red "M" on the chest and a turtle cozie of the same design. The material of both items was clearly expensive and looked to be handcrafted, making it that much more valuable. Sherlock left the room abruptly to return his incubator to his office, leaving Joan to her own thoughts.
Joan played with the material of the sweater for a few minutes, relishing it's soft texture before she had an idea. "Grab your coat." She yelled out to Sherlock, pulling her shoes on in the process. She didn't like the idea of Jamie buying her things with the blood money she accumulated over the years. It unsettled her to think about the person that had to die to cover the cost of the sweater.
"Where are we going?" Sherlock asked pulling a clean shirt on and moving to grab his jacket.
"First we're going to go sell this" Joan motioned to the sweater that she had put back in the box "Then we're going to donate it to some worthy cause because there is no way I'm comfortable having this." Sherlock held out Joan's jacket to help her put it on. He was happy to see Joan rejecting Moriarty's gifts, even if it wasn't for the reason he had hoped. He saw the hint of a smile when she realized the gift was for her. At least Joan was trying to fight off her in some way.
"It seems as though she is trying to mark her territory. Though I am not sure why she would drag Clyde in to this, he doesn't even like her."
"I am not territory," Joan pinched Sherlock's arm. He was getting better at respecting her as her own person but he still had his moments. "and how do you know Clyde doesn't like her?"
"Well, I asked him days ago and he turned his back to me at the mere mention of her name. There was also a strawberry on the other side of the cage but I am almost certain that it was the name that did it." Joan just shook her head and chose not to comment on that. Sherlock remained quite while she readied herself to go out before adding "Can I burn the cozie when we get back?" he asked hopefully. He doubted that there would be much demand for such a thing.
"Sure, but not in the house this time. My eyebrows have barely recovered from your last experiment."
The presents continued for the two weeks following the Sweater gate incident. They ranged from books to clothing and jewelery. Joan and Sherlock took to selling the items and burning the ones that wouldn't net much profit. Jamie's lastest package was a custom made lighter, a case of firecrackers and a fire extinguisher with Joan's name engraved on the side.
"Well she's certainly getting creative. It doesn't seem responsible to sell these." Sherlock grabbed a handful of firecrackers and the lighter before rushing off to the roof with child-like excitement in his eyes.
"Wait!" Joan screamed, grabbing the fire extinguisher and running after him. She would not have him frightening their neighbors again.
They spent the next hour setting off some pretty impressive firecrackers with only one slight mishap of Sherlock accidentally setting his shirt on fire.
"The lighter looks expensive." Joan inspected the item. It looked to be an antique.
"Ahead of you." Sherlock told her, already texting Carlos, the pawn shop owner they had been frequenting with the gifts. "I'll see if he can meet us tomorrow. It's a holiday but he hasn't any family so he shouldn't be busy."
"Rude."
"The truth isn't always kind, Watson." Sherlock finished his text and went to retrieve the last firecracker. He handed it over so Joan could light it for him. He threw it to the other side of the roof. It sizzled, popped and sparked in a bright red hue for a minute before fizzle out.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, taking in the cool weather and the view from their rooftop perch. Joan decided it was time for her to call it a night.
"I'm going to bed. This was enough excitement for one day." Joan collected her fire extinguisher and the jacket she brought with her to fight off the brittle air. She figured that an extinguisher with her name on it wouldn't sell for much and it would take too much effort to destroy it so she would stash it away in her room for safe keep. At least that's what she told herself. Truth be told, it was just the only gift she wouldn't feel horrible about keeping. It was far too ridiculous to sell and practical enough to keep around.
"Very well. Good night Watson."
"Night Sherlock." Joan went back to her room and tried to sleep away the guilt of wanting to keep the present.
The following morning Joan was roused from sleep by the faint sound of shuffling and the light click of her bedroom door being shut. She assumed it was Sherlock so she ignored it for a few minutes before pulling the covers from over her head to have a look around. There was no one there but there was a card stock note on the pillow next to her. The paper wasn't anything special, just a simple white piece the size of a note card. She flipped it over to look for a message and a found red lipstick print in the shape of a pair of lips Joan could spot anywhere. Underneath it, in neat script, said "See you soon" It was followed by a few x's and o's. The paper was rather cheap and the lipstick could be found anywhere. Joan decided that it would be fine to keep this piece. She tucked the note under her pillow, rolled over and drifted back to sleep.
It wouldn't be until she looked in the mirror, upon entering the bathroom, that she would see a matching lipstick print on her forehead.
